broderie anglaise dresses and red hair
by exploding-empires
Summary: Not even Molly could change that. / Albus/Molly, oneshot.


a/n: this is a story for mew and mor's 2012 weird pairings competition, so the pairing is obviously an m&mwp. harry potter © jk rowling. albus/molly credit to mew and mor.

**warning:** there is one use of bad language in this fic, which is why it's a t. please don't read if you don't like.

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broderie-anglaise dresses and red hair  
**pairing:** albusii/mollyii  
**words:** 1156

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The first time he realised he had feelings for her – other than cousinly feelings, of course – she was wearing a broderie-anglaise dress and her red hair was in a bun. They were at Malfoy Manor for a "reconciliation dinner" (that was what his parents called it, anyway) and the children were sitting outside on the grass. That was his image of Molly for a long time.

But that was when they were eleven, and now she's different (all neon bra straps showing under her too-tight tops and legs that go on forever and ever); she's not the innocent, little girl Molly. She's _sexy._

**/**

He doesn't even think about how wrong it is anymore. So, they're cousins – whatever. He's noticed Fred and Louis looking at her with expressions that mean a lot more than, _oh, cousin, you're fantastic_, so why shouldn't he? (Anyway, he and Lucy sort of broke the cousin/cousin boundaries for him a while ago.)

"Hey, Al," she says. They're at Malfoy Manor again (this time, for a "dinner between friends", because that's what they are now, apparently), sitting under the same tree, on the same grass and she becomes eleven-year-old Molly in the broderie-anglaise dress and red hair in a bun.

(The tone is innocent, but her black-lined eyes tell a different story.)

"Hey," he says, trying not to think of her in that way – oh, but how can he not, when she's there and she's Molly and she was built to impress?

"Kids!" shouts an adult from inside, even though Al, Molly, Rose, Scorpius and Lucy are sixteen and the youngest of the group are thirteen. Molly rolls her eyes and Albus laughs. "Come inside for your ice cream!"

_Maybe the description of her as a child wasn't so inaccurate_, Albus thinks, as Molly's eyes light up and she jumps up. He freezes. She's about to run in, but she's holding out her hand for him to take.

His heart thumps in his chest and a lump the size of a tennis ball rises in his throat. Of course, he has to take it – it would be rude not to!

"Are you okay?" Molly asks, sounding concerned, and he can't help being pleased that she cares.

"Oh—oh, yeah, of course," he says, struggling to speak. He puts a fake smile on his face to try and make himself more believable.

Together, they run. He hopes desperately that his palm isn't sweating, but he consoles himself with the fact that if it is, she'll probably put it down to the heat, won't she? He's struck by how tight her grip is, like she couldn't bear to let him go. That feels nice.

All too soon, they arrive at the door. The Malfoys are every bit as formal as Albus would've expected: when they get to the back door, a butler opens it for them, instructs them to take off their shoes and leads them into a cloakroom. Obviously, because it's the heat of summer, they aren't wearing coats, so the cloakroom is a little bit pointless, Albus thinks. It's the only way into the dining room from outside, he finds out later, so he allows the butler that one.

Al doesn't mind going to the Malfoys' house – it's posh, big and he's good friends with Scorpius. But this time, it's made even better by Molly holding his hand as they go into the dining room, by her sitting next to him at the table and giving him smiles at random, regular intervals throughout the dessert.

When they leave, Molly asks her dad if she can stay over at the Potters' and (he's a bit drunk) he agrees, so long as Harry and Ginny don't mind. Of course, they don't – Molly was always so lovely, she's no problem, and does Lucy want to come too? (She doesn't; she still can't face Al.)

She grins and takes Al's hand as they Apparate, and he thinks this might be his big opportunity.

**/**

It's not too long before they go back to Hogwarts and Al catches Molly kissing Fred in a broom cupboard. It's true that he didn't have anything official with her, but it still hurts more than anything he's been through before, because this is _Molly_ and Merlin, isn't she always the exception?

She stops and freezes for a second and she calls and chases and leaves her trail of heartbreak after him.

"Al!" she shouts. He stops, because no matter how hard he tries, if she's got a good enough excuse, it's all right by him. "It—it's not what it looks like, I swear!"

"How can it not be?"

"He was helping me practise," she says, without falter.

Al shoots her a look of daggers, because how on Earth could that ever have been realistic, even in Molly's mind (the mind of a Slytherin, a cold, dark, plotting bitch)?

"Yeah, that's likely, Moll," he says, using her nickname instinctively and inwardly cursing himself.

"I—I'm sorry," she says – she looks on the verge of tears.

"Sorry's not good enough," he lies, because it so would be, for her. "I thought you were better than this."

"Al," she whispers, but he's gone. Gone, gone, gone. He doesn't have time for liars like her.

(Except of course he does, he always does for her.)

**/**

Molly tells Albus later that he's not the only one to have had trouble with her flirting (except he doesn't hear "flirting", he hears "being a whore").

"I went to see a psychiatrist about it," she tells him, and he starts listening.

"Surely that's a bit serious?" he asks.

"Yeah, well," she says. "You know Dad. He was worried, because I don't really talk to Luce that much anymore, and because of him and Mum, you know…"

Albus nods. He's being far too sympathetic, but it's hard not to be when she's here being all pretty and sweet and _Molly_.

"Anyway," she says, and his attention comes back. "The guy said that it stems from mine and Lucy's arguments and the fact that I didn't really have parent figures, considering how Mum left and Dad was always busy with the Ministry, so I just wanted someone to be there for me."

_That makes sense,_ Al thinks, bitterly, _but it's just an excuse, isn't it? Just an excuse to sleep around._

"I guess your dad was right, then," is all he says.

"Yeah." Molly says, quietly. She looks like she's about to say something, but she closes her mouth and leaves. Al gets the distinct impression that she was hoping (or maybe expecting, he can't decide which) that he'd apologise, or ask her out, or something of the sort.

Maybe in another life, he would. But in this life, he had a girlfriend now, and she wasn't Molly. He'd moved on, and no cousin in a broderie-anglaise dress with their red Weasley hair in a bun could change that.

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a/n2: thank you for reading! i really hope you liked this. please review if you have the time, especially if you're going to favourite.


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